


Our Capacity for Love

by TaraHarkon



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Closeted Character, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Death, Depression, Espionage, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Organized Crime, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers, Suicidal Thoughts, TAZ Commitment, TAZ dust
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2018-11-16
Packaged: 2019-08-22 10:53:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16596503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaraHarkon/pseuds/TaraHarkon
Summary: Our capacity for love increases with each person we cross paths with throughout our lives and with each moment we spend with those people. But too often we neglect that part of ourselves in favor of others, and by the time we realize just how important it is, we find ourselves with fewer folks around to practice with.But sometimes, someone new walks into a person's life and they get a chance to try again. And Dylan Mathis has a choice between letting the ghosts of the past hold him back or walking boldly into a new future full of love and hope.





	1. Chapter 1

Dylan walked down the road alone as he so often did these days. He had a hat pulled low to keep the glare of the setting sun out of his eyes and his hands in the pockets of his faded duster. It was a quiet evening, one where the sky was turning a burnished purple color and no one else was around to see it. Near about everyone else in Dry River would be at home settling into their nightly routines now. He paused on the road, closing his eyes tightly against unbidden memory as he passed through the center of town. Then he pressed on, wishing he could leave his ghosts behind him.

Silence was the only thing that met his ears as he walked into the Mathis house. Anne was sitting by the window staring out at the sky and he dropped into the empty chair beside her. Neither said a word in greeting, they only let the silence hang between them. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. You couldn’t grow up twins and have uncomfortable silence between you for long. They just didn’t work that way. Still, there were secrets and it tore Dylan apart.

“Where’s Ma?”

Anne’s voice was quiet, her expression curious but not worried. Dylan shrugged a little.

“Helpin’ some new folk as moved into town.”

That certainly caught Anne’s attention and she grinned at him.

“New folks? Here?”

Dylan snorted, her teasing shaking off some of his melancholy.

“I know, right? Don’t make no sense. But I guess what with Ma finally workin’ with Mr Blackwell ‘n all...”

And there, it was back. Anne looked down and he scooted closer, putting an arm around her shoulders and hugging her tightly.

“If... if I could change things, Anne... I would. In a heartbeat. If I could trade, he’d be here with you right now.”

Anne shook her head even as she leaned into his hug.

“You think we wouldn’t be sittin’ here just the same if it was you gone, Dylan Mathis? You’re my brother. I love Jeremiah, Dylan. But you’re my heart. And don’t you ever forget that.”

Dylan sniffed, trying to halt the tears that were threatening. Then he smiled.

“Love you too, Anne. For always.”

And they would both always love Jeremiah Blackwell. That was just the way of things. Of that, Dylan was certain.

They heard the sound of boots coming up the steps and Anne stood, moving towards the kitchen.

“Come on, furball. I kept dinner warm for you and Ma and you’re both damn well gonna eat it.”

Dylan smiled to hear the old nickname on her lips once more and followed after her once his coat and hat were hanging on a peg by the door. Abigail Mathis walked through the door a moment later and hung her coat on the next peg before heading to find them in the kitchen. Dylan had a bowl of stew in front of him and a smile on his face and Anne sat opposite with her own smile on her face. Abigail watched them both for a long moment and then relaxed. Things had been tense in the whole town since the Blackwell boy had been killed, most of all in her house. She knew her boy hadn't killed him, she knew her girl know the same thing. The twins had always been thick as thieves and nothing would ever come between them. She was sure of that. Dropping into the empty seat, she accepted the bowl that Anne passed over with a nod.

"So, how're the new folks, Ma?"

Abigail shook her head, a smile on her face.

"Bless their hearts, they're gonna get themselves killed inside of a week. Bunch of city slickers with no idea what a damn rattler is, let alone how to steer clear of them."

Dylan snorted at that.

"What're they even doing out here then?"

"They're a bunch of science fellers, lookin' for a guide to show them around. I told them you'd be there in the mornin' to show 'em around town but I reckon they're talkin' more about seein' the wilderness."

Dylan's head snapped up and then he groaned.

"Ma! Really? Me? Why?"

Abigail pointed at him across the table with her spoon, a stern look on her face.

"Because you ain't hardly talked to anyone as ain't your sister or me in months and if I gotta get you a job babyminding a bunch of jumped up city boys to get you out and talkin' to folk again, then I will, Dylan Mathis."

Dylan opened his mouth to protest and Anne cut him off.

"Ma's right, Dylan. And we're worried about you." She looked worried and leaned forward towards him, putting a hand on his arm. "You've been..." Pause. "I don't wanna lose you too."

Dylan opened his mouth to deny it, to deny what she was saying, and Anne's grip on his arm tightened.

"You've been spending more time in that damn graveyard than I have. Don't think I haven't noticed."

Well, that was something he certainly couldn’t deny. Hadn’t he been there again today sitting on the dirt where they’d buried Jeremiah and saying all the things he’d never been able to say before? Hadn’t he been telling Jeremiah about how Anne was? Keeping him up to date on everything like he was just going to wake up one day and everything would go back to how it was? He’d never thought Anne would notice, that she would worry. His gaze fell to the table. He wasn’t sure if she was right to worry about him having one foot in the grave, but the thing was that he wasn’t sure she was wrong either.

“Anne, I... Ma, I’m...”

Anne moved around the table to hug her brother just like he’d been doing for her since that night. They were going through the unimaginable, but at least they could do it together. At least they had that much. And if he left her, it would be so, so much worse. 

 

* * *

 

The next morning, Dylan pulled his boots on, grabbed his duster and hat, and trudged up to the house on Carrion St that he'd been pointed to. It was a small house, just two floors and a root cellar, on the end of the street. The house had stood empty for some time and it was good to have it finally filled again, even if it was city slickers with no more notion of how life worked out here than babies. He raised his hand to knock on the door and pulled back when it was opened before his knuckles could meet the wood. When his Ma had said city boys, he'd been picturing the rich folks he saw from time to time moving through on stagecoaches. They were a neverending stream of just-passing-through strangers with pale skin and dark suits who didn't ever stop long enough to even get the dust of this place on their boots. The woman that stood in the open doorway was nothing like what he had been picturing. She was tall, taller than he was, with tattoos adorning her body that were like nothing he had ever seen before. Her eyes were sharp as she looked down at him and she smiled slowly. There was something about that smile that came across less like a human smile and more like a wolf's, more like a threat.

"So, Little Wolf, you are the one who will be showing Remy around?"

Dylan pulled his chin down, a bit of a growl starting in his throat, but then he took a breath and nodded.

"Yeah, that's me. I'm Dylan Mathis."

A moment later, a young man perhaps just a bit younger than Dylan, came running down the stairs. He took the last three in a leap and turned to look past the woman in the doorway at Dylan. He was shorter than Dylan and built along slender lines. His dark hair was cut short and brushed back away from his smiling face as he looked Dylan over curiously. He stuck his hand out then, leaning around the woman with a bright smile.

"Hi! I'm Remy! Well, Chris Rembrandt, but everyone just calls me Remy. It's a nickname." Then he looked up at the woman blocking his path. "Kardala, it's okay, really. I'll be back later and Mrs. Mathis said that Dylan would keep me out of trouble in the desert." 

Kardala nodded and then stepped out of the way.

"Return safely for dinner, Little Man. Or else I will be forced to come look for you."

Remy laughed a little and hoisted his bag higher on his shoulder.

"I will, I will. Promise. And tell Nadiya not to worry about me. If she ever comes out of her lab."

Dylan looked down at Remy for a long moment and then quirked an eyebrow.

"Have you got a hat? Because if we're goin' out in the desert, you're gonna want a hat."

Remy paused for just a moment and then his eyes widened slightly. He turned around and reached back into the house for a hat that hung on a peg and then jammed it onto his head. Then he grinned at Dylan and pointed at it.

"Ready to go."

Dylan sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Alright... It's Remy... right? Where were you thinkin' about goin' in the desert? Was there somethin' in particular you're lookin' for or nah?"

Remy was grinning once more and he adjusted his bag. 

"Well, about that. See, I'm doing some research into some of the local legends and I was hoping you could show me around."

Dylan was starting to think that this entire day was going to be a waste of time, even if he was going to get a good long walk and didn't have to deal with Anne and Ma looking at him like he was going to fade away at any second. But Remy seemed nice enough. And he sure was excited about whatever he was doing. Alright, maybe it wasn't going to be completely awful.

"What sorts of local legends? Because let me tell you, city boy, there's a lot out here that ain't exactly what I'd call a legend."

Remy looked surprised then.

"Really? I mean, I've heard all sorts of things out east about what's out here."

They walked towards the desert, Dylan stretching as he walked, his arms up behind his head. 

"Well, maybe you should tell me some of that then and I'll see if I can't help you find what you're lookin' for."

Remy nodded once but he stayed quiet until they had passed the last of the houses on the edge of town. Then he looked up at Dylan, all seriousness.

"Just so you know, I was lying."

Dylan stopped in his tracks and stared at Remy, mouth open.

"Wait... wait... what? You're lyin' to me?"

Remy set his bag down and fished around in it for a minute. Then he pulled out a badge and held it up so Dylan could examine it.

"I'm from an organization in New York called the Do-Gooder Fellowship and I'm here to solve a problem your town's got but I need your help to do it and I need information it's not safe for you to give me in town."

For a moment, the silence hung between them. If this had been a story, a tumbleweed would have bounced along the ground between them, but this was no tale, and Dylan could only hope that whatever was about to happen wasn't going to be as bad as the last time he'd gotten caught up in someone else's plans. He spotted a low rock in a rare patch of shade and went to sit on it. Remy followed, a bit sheepish, and looked down at Dylan.

"I'm gonna bet you want me to explain, huh?"

"That'd be mighty kind of you."

Remy dropped to sit in the sand next to Dylan, leaning against the rock face that provided their scant shade.

"It's about the Banshee."

Dylan's eyes went wide with fear and he looked the skinny man over again, rapidly reevaluating him. If this fellow thought he could take down the Banshee with... with what? Some scientist named Nadiya and a woman named Kardala? And him? They really were gonna get themselves killed and not even by rattlesnakes. They were going to get disappeared by the criminal underground. They were going to be white bones picked clean deep in the desert with the carrion birds circling high over them in the sky. Dylan scrubbed at his face and then looked at Remy.

"No. No, I can't. You don't understand. You can't just swan into town and think you're gonna take her down without..."

Remy reached over and put a hand on Dylan's shoulder.

"I'm not going to do anything reckless. That's why I'm talking to you first. I don't plan on getting myself killed, if it makes you feel better. And I don't plan on letting anyone else get killed." He pulled his hand back then, closing it and just staring down at it. "Listen, it's not... I'm not jumping into this blind. I know what she's like. I know what she's done. But I need to know more from someone here and I need someone who can help me so I don't stand out."

Dylan took a breath and then nodded. It wasn't like Remy was just some random city boy, after all. He was Do-Gooder Fellowship. Dylan had heard of them, even all the way out here. They were capable, they were competent, and they fought the good fight. Remy saw the tension in Dylan's shoulders ease some and smiled.

"You don't have to tell me everything now. I don't need it yet. But I wanted you to know so I wasn't just stringing you along with thinking I'm just out here having desert adventures."

"Does my Ma know what you're up to, Remy?"

Remy rubbed the back of his neck and grinned.

"Yeah, actually. Nadiya explained it to her. She's our primary local contact. But when I said I'd need a guide, she volunteered you."

Dylan wondered internally if his Ma had really understood what she was signing him up for when she'd volunteered him for this little job. Or if she'd just thought what she had the night before, that she was getting him out of the house and talking to folks again. He scrubbed at his face and then sighed.

"Alright, fine. But if you're gunning for a fight with the Banshee, don't expect me to follow you into gettin' yourself killed. I got a sister I gotta watch out for."

"That's fine. Honestly, if you were excited to fight her, I'd be worried. But for now, it's like I said, I don't even want information about her operations. I just need to know how best to not look suspicious. I need to be able to go places and... well, not fit in so much as not have people think I'm up to something."

Well, that made sense. Dylan stood up and looked Remy over.

"What kind of scientist are you? Because you might be able to pull something off with that."

Remy dug around in his bag until he'd found a sketchbook.

"Technically, I'm a mathematician. But I figured that would be sort of weird, so I brought these along and I'm got colored pencils and everything I need to do some nature studies. So... a naturalist, I guess."

Dylan took the book and flipped through it. The sketches were alright, he supposed. The color good, even if it was minimal. Alright, and things around the sketches were messy. It was like Remy had scribbled all sorts of things around his nature studies. There were equations and sketches of machine parts and of people and places that Dylan had never seen. It was fascinating. Handing it back, he nodded.

"Might want to try and pass for an artist instead, if your scientist cover isn't already out. You've got a little of everything and you could probably just sit in a corner drawin' what's goin' on without anyone thinkin' you're up to somethin'."

Remy tucked the leatherbound sketchbook back into his bag and smiled up at Dylan.

"See, you're helping already." Then he turned towards the desert again. "Think you could show me around a little before we head back?"

With a shrug, Dylan started walking. His boots crunched on the sand and he glanced back over his shoulder at Remy. He couldn't help but wonder if he was going to be alright. The Banshee wasn't someone to mess with. Hell, even Abigail Mathis didn't mess with the Banshee, or at least Dylan didn't think she did. Something in his chest felt tight as Dylan watched Remy catch up. With an internal sigh, he decided he was going to have to keep this city boy out of trouble himself.


	2. Chapter 2

A few days passed like that, with Dylan meeting Remy in the mornings and wandering the town with him. Remy would stop periodically to sketch things and they would talk about everything and nothing. Dylan had warned him though, that these walks would have to stop for a bit as they got closer to the full moon. Dylan would be staying closer to home for those three days. At least, mostly.

The true full moon was a day away still and Dylan Mathis had pulled his duster around him and his hat down as he walked towards the graveyard up beside the church. He always felt like there were eyes on him when he passed through the wrought iron gates. There probably were. It was a side effect of life with the spectral. He walked through the ranks of gravestones, his feet taking him automatically towards the grave only a few months old. The dirt in the burying ground was just as much sand as the dirt out in the desert around Dry River. He sat, leaning against the stone like an old friend, and closed his eyes. It was still warm from the sun shining on it through the day and with his eyes closed, he could almost pretend he was sitting with Jeremiah.

"Hey there, Miah. It uh... it's been a few days, huh? Anne's... Anne's doin' a'right, I think. Been makin' sure of that. I think she's gonna pull through. She's always been tougher than both of us and I reckon she'll figure out how to live her life. I been... Well, it sounds damn silly sayin' it out loud, but Ma's got me playin' keeper for a city boy named Remy. He's a'right, I guess. Nice enough, I guess." He shrugged a little, keeping his eyes closed. "Dammit, I wish you were still here. But... but not like Ma and Anne think. I don't... Just because I don't know how to live doesn't mean I want to die, you know? It ain't like that. I just keep thinkin' about that night and seein' you in the street like that, all covered in blood. I can't get it out of my head. Anne said somethin' once, about how she wished she could've been there... been with you. Dammit, I almost laughed. I don't think she understands how lucky she is that her memories of you are all... all happy. That she doesn't see all that blood."

He pulled his knees up to his chest, pulling his hat further down. The moon was rising and he could feel it in his bones with how close it was to full. He really should be getting home. He knew he wasn't safe out here this close to the full moon when he couldn't shift under his own control. It wasn't full enough to force him into his wolf shape but it was too full to give him control. Still, he didn't want to go just yet. He stared down at the dirt under his feet. He wished that things could be different. Setting one hand on the cooling stone, Dylan sighed.

"I'm sorry. I know, I said it before but... I shoulda been there with you. No one ever would've been able to hurt you if I'd been there, full moon or no. I failed you and I failed Anne and I'm sorry for that." For a strange moment, his mind turned to the newcomers to town, to the group of people who had been sent here to take down the Banshee. Would he fail Remy too in the end? "I should get home but I'll be back. Maybe next time, I can bring you a root beer."

Dylan pushed himself up to standing and looked around. He caught movement out of the corner of his eyes and bared his teeth, a low growl starting in his throat. Then he relaxed. IT was just a ghost, one he'd gotten used to seeing. He tilted his head back and smiled at the spectral man standing in front of him with his hands in his pockets.

"Howdy, Pa."

Jonathan Mathis looked his son over and gave him a sad smile.

"You best be headed on home, Dylan. You know your Ma's gonna fuss if you're too late. It's already dark."

"I know. Was just on my way back."

Jonathan nodded but he didn't move out of Dylan's way just yet.

"Dylan... son... I heard some of what you were sayin' just now and..."

Dylan looked away and he stepped around his father, moving towards the wrought iron gates of the cemetery once more.

"I'm already gettin' hell from Anne and Ma. I don't need it from you too."

"Then don't give us a reason to worry. We already got too many of you kids in this here dirt."

Dylan put his head down and walked away, ignoring his father's words behind him. Wishing that he hadn't failed Jeremiah, wishing that he was still alive, wasn't the same as wishing himself into an early grave. Right? He just wanted there to be a way for him to fix his mistakes, that was all. Before he could get sucked too far into his thoughts, he heard footsteps running up behind him and turned. Somehow, he wasn't surprised to see that it was Remy. The man was as cheerful as ever, his sketchbook held tight to his chest.

"Dylan! I thought it was you." He looked past Dylan, his smile faltering slightly as he saw where Dylan had just been coming from. "Oh... oh. Did... you... Were you visiting someone? I probably shouldn't intrude. I just thought it was you and wanted to say hello and..."

Remy trailed off and Dylan couldn't help but smile. Remy had that effect on him. He was like a puppy, even if he was Flesh and not Fur. He was a little ball of energy all wound up tight and bouncing all over. It was almost contagious. Between that and his perpetual grin, Dylan couldn't help but relax around him.

"Hey, hey, it's alright, Remy. I was just headin' home. Mine's not too far from yours if you wanted someone to walk you there. What's got you out this late anyway?"

Remy fell into step beside Dylan as they walked towards Carrion St and Remy talked about the last few hours and how he'd gotten to spend some time sketching people playing cards in one of the local clubs. It was a vampire owned establishment and Remy had so many questions to ask. He'd been starting to understand werewolves, had said he didn't really know too many back east, but vampires were still something of an enigma to him. It was odd to explain vampires without just turning to Jeremiah and telling him to do it. It was odd and uncomfortable, just like everything else that drew attention to the empty space in their lives. Remy paused as they approached his house, looking up at Dylan. He had a worried look on his face.

"Dylan, did I do something wrong?"

Dylan's head snapped up and he stared at Remy in confusion.

"What... what do you mean?"

Remy fidgeted with the book in his arms, eyes darting away from Dylan's face.

"It's just that you started to close down when we were talking and you've never done that before. And I figured... I thought it had to be something I did, otherwise why would it happen now?"

Dylan couldn't help but smile at Remy then.

"It's a'right. Just... talkin' about vampires and all. My... friend. He was a vampire."

Remy looked back the way they had come, back towards the small churchyard with its wrought iron gates, and his tanned skin went ashy and pale.

“I’m... I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to... I...”

Before Dylan could say anything, before he could even find the words he needed, Remy was gone and the door to the small house banged loudly with the speed of Remy passing through it. Dylan Mathis stood there for a long moment as the street darkened around him. Then he turned and walked the short distance down Carrion Street towards the Mathis Home. Part of him wondered if Anne could explain what the hell just happened, but the sensible part of him, or at least the guilty part, didn’t want to bring Jeremiah up with her. Instead, he hung his hat and coat on their pegs by the door and gave her a smile. Anne was sitting with a book and she looked up at the sound of his boots on the wood floor.

“Dinner’s still warm for you, Dylan. And you better go in there and tell Ma you’re still alive.”

Dylan blinked slowly and then rubbed at the back of his neck.

“I ain’t that late, am I?”

She snorted and closed her book.

“You’ve got no idea what time it is, do you?”

He looked back out the window at the darkened street. How long had he stood there outside Remy’s house? What the hell was wrong with him? He shook his head a bit, just trying to clear it, and turned towards the kitchen.

“I was fine. Was just down the street.”

He went to grab some of dinner and dropped into a seat. Abigail Mathis sat opposite him, a frown on her face.

“Dylan.”

“Ma.”

“Where you been, boy?”

He took a deliberate bite of his food, chewing slowly, and then looked at her.

“Talkin’ to Remy. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

There was more bite to his words than he'd meant to, more than enough that Abigail noticed. She leaned forward, teeth bared in a low growl.

"You best not be sassin' me, boy."

Dylan averted his eyes quickly. That was the thing about growing up as a werewolf. He knew when to back down, even from his Ma. There were some fights you just couldn't win and this was one of them. 

"Ain't sassin'. That's where I was. Promise. I was on my way home and ran into Remy so I walked him home. We got to talkin', I lost track of time."

Abigail stood, nodding. 

"A'right. But you know how close it is to the full moon. You best take care."

Dylan nodded but still didn't look up.

"Yes, Ma."

Abigail turned away then, walking towards the living room and the stairs. She left Dylan alone with his dinner and his thoughts. After a few minutes, Anne came in and sat down opposite him with an apologetic smile on her face. After a moment, her little smile turned into a grin.

"So, tell me more about this Remy fellow. Seems like you're sure makin' friends."

Dylan stopped, fork raised halfway to his mouth. He raised an eyebrow at his sister and set his fork back down.

"I mean, he's nice enough. Flighty little fellow, but yeah, he's a'right. We've been talkin' a lot about... well... you know, Dry River and the desert and all. He's got a lot of questions." Dylan couldn't help the smile that crossed his face then. "Poor city boy doesn't know a lot about much."

Anne's smile grew and she leaned on her arm.

"Sounds like you really like him."

Dylan rubbed at the back of his neck for a moment then. He seemed uncomfortable and looked down at the table.

"Anne... Are you tryin' to imply somethin'?"

For just a moment, Anne stayed quiet, just watching her brother. Then she spoke, voice soft.

"I was just sayin' it sounded like you like him, like you're makin' a friend. And that's all. But if you think I was implyin' somethin' else then... Dylan, I just want you to be happy and if that's with this city boy, then that's a'right."

Dylan took a breath and then another. Then he met his sister's eyes across the table. His voice was a bare whisper as he spoke.

"How long've you known?"

 


	3. Chapter 3

Anne took a breath and leaned forward, looking at her twin. The air suddenly hummed with a tension that never hung between them, that never should have been there, that neither of them wanted there. Dylan was still looking at her, their eyes locked. She was the first to look away.

"I guessed when we were still kids. I knew when we were fifteen and I saw the way you looked at the other guys."

Dylan tried to look away then, but the gentle look in her eyes held him.

"And that's a'right. I want you to be happy. No matter what that means, Dylan." 

Every muscle in his body was tense and he watched her for any sign she wasn't being entirely truthful. Or any sign that she knew more than just how he was bent. Did she know about his real secret? But there was no hint of anything else in her expression, no subtle hint of anger or distress or anything he would expect. He gave her an uncertain smile.

"Well... you're not wrong. But it ain't like that. Remy's... I don't know yet, but I think he's a friend and that's all."

Anne smiled at her brother and rested her head on her hand.

"Still, I'm glad he makes you happy. Even if it ain't that kind of happy. Any kind of happy is good." 

* * *

 

The next day, Dylan walked down to the little house on the edge of town with his hat and his coat on, his hands in the pockets of his britches. The sun hadn't been up long, but he was hoping he could be there when Remy came out to see if maybe the man wanted to go spend some time out in the desert sketching today. It was a good place to talk, a good place to spend time. And he had to admit, even if only to himself, that he did enjoy spending time with Remy. Not the way Anne thought. Just as friends. That was all. Instead, he found himself standing there alone for long enough that a quiet young woman stepped out onto the porch and invited him in. She looked enough like Kardala that he wondered perhaps if they were related, though she was quite a bit shorter and didn't have tattoos. This woman introduced herself as Irene as she guided him into a seat in the small kitchen and set a muffin on the table in front of him. 

"Remy has spoken quite a bit about you."

Dylan had just picked up the muffin and he stopped, holding it just short of his mouth. His cheeks felt hot and he looked away.

"He uh... he has? What sort of stuff?"

Irene had a soft laugh, one that invited him to join her even though he wasn't entirely sure why she was laughing. Instead, he took a sizable bite of the muffin and focused on chewing.

"About how well you do with listening and being patient. Remy can be quite a handful at times." Then she smiled. "And he also said he likes your smile." 

That stopped Dylan entirely and he just stared at Irene for a long moment, mouth working but no sound coming out. Remy liked his smile? What did that even mean? There was no way it could mean what it sounded, right? And anyway, there was no reason the idea should leave his heart pounding. Remy was his friend and that was all, dammit. He loved Jeremiah and Jeremiah was gone and that was that. He cleared his throat a little, more than just a bit awkwardly.

"Well, I was actually hoping to see him. He ran off sudden like last night when we were talkin' and I don't know why. Is he around or did I miss him?"

Irene smiled at him again and leaned forward, almost conspiratorially.

"He hasn't even gotten up yet. He was up half the night talking to Nadiya about you. I think that he's worried he upset you. But I should really let him explain it."

Dylan was quiet after that. He was pretty sure he knew what Remy meant. But how could he explain that it was alright? It wasn't like he could expect Remy to know about Jeremiah, about what had happened. Remy was more than allowed to not know things. Especially about things that had happened before they had moved to the town. Dylan broke a piece of the muffin off, studying the berries in it for a moment. Then he looked up at the woman seated opposite him again.

"So... Are you part of that Do-Gooder Fellowship too or is that just Remy?"

Irene had poured herself a cup of tea at some point and she sipped it before she answered.

"We all are. Remy, Nadiya, and I."

"What about Kardala?"

That got an amused laugh and Dylan wondered if he'd said something wrong.

"Yes, I suppose Kardala is a member as well, if it comes down to it. And I appreciate the help you've been giving Remy with that, above and beyond friendship. There's only so much we can do to help him with the initial gathering of information. Kardala is much more useful in a fight and well... I don't believe you've had the pleasure of meeting Nadiya yet, but suffice to say that the social graces are not what I would call her best skill set."

He tilted his head to the side, curious.

"And what about you? What do you do?"

She met his eyes steadily. 

"As I said, Kardala is much more useful in a fight."

"That... that don't answer the-"

They both stopped at the sound of feet pounding down the stairs and a moment later Remy appeared in an open pajama shirt, striped pajama pants, and his stocking feet. Dylan stared at him for just a moment, surprised by how muscular Remy was under the heavy shirts he usually wore. For Remy's part, he seemed utterly poleaxed by the fact that Dylan Mathis was sitting at their breakfast table and just made a soft choked noise before turning around and running back up the stairs. Irene chuckled quietly and took another sip of her tea.

"I expect we will see him again once he's found clean pants. Would you like another muffin, Dylan?" 

* * *

 

It was a while before Remy came back down the stairs with a clean pair of pants on, along with a heavy shirt and suspenders just like usual. He gave Dylan a sheepish smile and ducked his head when Irene gave him a knowing glance. She set another muffin on the table for him and poured him a cup of tea before standing. Then she set off out of the room with the plate of muffins, saying something about making sure Nadiya got breakfast. But that left Dylan and Remy alone. Remy was quiet for a long time, slowly picking his muffin to little pieces and dropping them onto his plate. When he finally spoke, he did so staring at the pile of muffin bits.

"Sorry about last night, Dylan."

Dylan hesitated for a moment but then he smiled.

"It's a'right, Rem. I can't exactly... I mean... you weren't here and you never met him. So... I can... I mean... It's fine."

Remy nodded just a little, as though he wasn't entirely sure that Dylan was accepting his apology. Then they were both quiet again. Dylan was the one to break the silence this time, reaching over to snag a piece of Remy's muffin and pop it into his own mouth.

"If you're not gonna eat that..." He teased.

Remy laughed and set about finishing his breakfast in much better spirits than he'd started it. With their food done, Remy looked up at Dylan, eyes suddenly uncertain again.

"I didn't think to ask... Did you come over this early for a reason or just for breakfast? I'd guess it was for Irene's baking, but I think this is the first time you've had it, right?"

Dylan felt his cheeks suddenly go hot and he laughed a little, almost nervously. Dammit, why was he like this? It wasn't like he was trying to ask Remy out to the county faire. They were friends. Just two guys who were friends and that was that.

"I just wanted to see if you wanted to go sketch today. I also wanted to make sure you were a'right after last night. I thought I'd done somethin' wrong. Made you mad or somethin', you know?"

Remy looked a little surprised but then he got up.

"Sure. Lemme just grab my sketchbook and maybe something for lunch later. I could throw together some sandwiches or something?"

Dylan stood and pushed his chair in.

"Yeah, sure. Sounds great. Want a hand?"

When Irene came back to put the now empty plate by the sink to be washed, she found Dylan and Remy laughing while they worked on slicing meat and bread to pack up some sandwiches for lunch later. Seeing them, she turned around and headed back upstairs to Nadiya's lab. She could deal with the dishes later. Those two needed the private space to work out what was happening between them. Even if they didn't see it quite yet.


End file.
